


Flocked

by BlueMasquerade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Meeting, Fluff, M/M, flamingo, modern!AU, writer!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 16:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10517838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMasquerade/pseuds/BlueMasquerade
Summary: It's just another night on the job for Dean Winchester and his crew, but when they get busted by the gorgeous, blue-eyedvictimrecipient of a yard full of pink flamingos, it's Dean who gets the surprise of a lifetime.





	

48… 49… 50. “Deployment complete,” Dean confirmed, just loud enough for his team to hear him. Fifty pink yard flamingos, no more, no less, were now artfully planted in the tidy front yard of the recipient’s house. This one was a Craftsman-style bungalow with a neatly painted front porch and well-tended gardens filled with flowers, most of them closed since it was night, but even now there was a faint floral perfume on the air. Maybe he’d do a drive-by during the day tomorrow, see what this place looked like in the sunshine. He thought it would be pleasantly homey, and the flamingos had to add that perfect finishing touch. Dean snorted a laugh. 

He looked around to make sure everything else was in order. Sam and Charlie were fastening the banner to the stakes while Kevin carried the empty boxes back to the van. Dean started his final checklist, grateful for the lit screen on his phone. Working in the dark had its challenges, but his team was good.

“And done!” Sam called out, raising his hands as he stepped away from the banner. Charlie echoed his movement before turning to high five Sam. 

“Awesome.” Dean grinned, turning on his Maglite and scrolling it over the custom banner. _**Congratulations Cassie! Job well done!** _The words were accented by two bumblebees forming the dots over the ‘i’s. Charlie had informed him that the client had included .jpg files for the bees along with the order. They were pretty cute, he had to admit, though he didn’t quite understand the tie around the neck of one of the bees. It wasn’t even tied correctly, the whole thing hanging backwards. “Cassie is certainly going to have a surprise when she looks outside in the morning.”__

__Suddenly a light came on in the house. “Oh shit.” They weren't quite cleaned up enough to pile in the van and hightail it out of there, but damn if the team didn't scramble to at least try._ _

__Dean positioned himself near the front porch. As the job boss it was his role to run interference when this kind of thing happened. It usually didn't. They never showed up until well after midnight and they were gone long before dawn. They were fast and quiet. But once in awhile they encountered a light sleeper and he had to do some fast talking._ _

__The front porch light flipped on. Busted, Dean thought. The curtain at the front window twitched. Dean turned on his brightest, most charming smile and waved._ _

__A moment later the door opened. Holy shit. The guy who stood in the doorway was nothing short of gorgeous, even all muzzy with sleep. Maybe especially so. His dark hair was all rumpled. He was wearing a pair of baggy sleep pants and a stretched out tee with a small hole near the hem. Blue eyes crinkled at the corners and blinked in confusion as he stared first at Dean and then past him at the fruits of their labors._ _

__“Dean!” Sam’s hiss jolted him out of his stunned admiration. Oh. Yeah. Job. He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck, and forced his customer service smile back onto his face._ _

__“Hey.” Way to be all glib and charming, Winchester. Hey? Really, that's the best you can do?_ _

__The guy took a shuffling step out onto the porch, standing next to a mossy green planter filled with geraniums. “Hello,” he replied, and damn if his deep, rough voice didn’t send a ripple of something Dean didn’t care to define straight down his spine, curling through his belly, and settling low in his body with unmistakable heat._ _

__Those eyes narrowed in a squint as he looked out over the yard. “What is this?”_ _

__“This? Uh, this is a surprise,” Dean managed to put the words together, grateful that he’d done this enough times that it was second nature. His brain was operating at less than full capacity right now. “For Cassie.”_ _

__The guy made a displeased grunt, turned his gaze fully on Dean. “That would be me.”_ _

__What? Oh shit._ _

__“Shit.”_ _

__The guy -- Cassie? Really? -- walked up to Dean, plucked the flashlight from his hand, and continued on to the street-facing side of the banner, picking his way carefully between pink plastic birds with metal stakes for legs. He directed the flashlight beam towards the sign, made a faint growling sound. “Gabriel.”_ _

__Okay. Inappropriate reaction to that sound. Completely, irredeemably inappropriate. To top it off, Dean suddenly remembered that he wasn't alone. He stole a glance back towards the van, and sure enough, his entire crew had their faces plastered up against the windows, watching him make a fool of himself. Charlie grinned and gave him a thumbs up. Sam was smirking. Kevin was all wide-eyed._ _

__He cleared his throat. “Okay. So. Surprise?”_ _

__Cassie turned the flashlight on him, making him cover his eyes at the sudden blinding light._ _

__“Oh, sorry,” he quickly apologized, redirecting the beam towards the ground. “You did this?”_ _

__Dean wasn't sure, but it didn't sound like he was about to be murdered for desecrating the lawn, so he cautiously nodded. “Yeah. Dean Winchester, at your service.” He sketched one of those foofy bows that Charlie insisted on when they were LARPing, and immediately wanted to kick himself in the ass._ _

__“I trust that you also perform the removal services?”_ _

__“Next evening, yeah. You don’t like it.”_ _

__Cassie sighed, running his hand through his hair -- and if he did that a lot, no wonder it looked like sex hair. Stop it. “It was Gabriel, wasn’t it.”_ _

__One of the contract terms was that the client had to agree to being identified, so Dean didn't feel any compunctions about confirming it. “One Gabriel Novak, yes.”_ _

__“My brother. He is irrepressible. The more mischief he can cause, the happier he is. It’s usually harmless, if annoying. Usually. There have been exceptions.”_ _

__“Hey, I’ve got a brother. I can relate.” He flicked his gaze towards the van. “He’s the freakishly tall one in the front seat, with the shampoo commercial hair. Cas -- can I call you Cas?” He just couldn't quite see calling the guy Cassie._ _

__“Yes, please. Only Gabriel calls me Cassie. I did mention the fondness for mischief.”_ _

__Dean chuckled. “Okay, thank God. Cas. If you really hate it, we can pull it down,” he offered, which he really wasn't supposed to do. He was only supposed to do that if the recipient (they were supposed to call them recipients and not victims) absolutely insisted._ _

__Cas sighed again. “It’s not that I hate it. I generally prefer not to be the center of attention, and this is pointedly intended to make me exactly that. Still, leaving it up for the day is bound to be less painful than suffering through Gabriel’s petulance if I ask you to remove it. So you may leave it in place.”_ _

__“Okay. Thanks.” Dean shifted from one foot to the other, strangely reluctant to leave even though his team was still watching every move. “We’ll be back in the evening tomorrow, or I suppose later today. Have a good one.” There really wasn't any excuse to draw this out more. They had another job yet tonight -- installing a giant stork in the yard of a couple that just had a baby -- and the team didn't like to be out later than they had to. The three of them were all in college still, after all, and had class tomorrow._ _

__Dean gave Cas an awkward wave and headed towards the van, tripping over one of the flamingos. “Dammit.”_ _

__He just caught a glimpse of Sam grinning before his idiot brother shifted back to sit properly in the shotgun seat._ _

__Cas waved back, and Dean thought he might be watching as they left, though that might have been wishful thinking._ _

__

__

__All through the next job his crew had teased him. Never had he been so glad for one of those dumb stork jobs. At least it was fast and easy, and then they were done for the night. He dropped Charlie and Kevin off, then headed home with Sam._ _

__“Seriously, man. You should say something to the guy. At least try and figure out if he likes guys.”_ _

__“Don't you have class at the ass crack of dawn?”_ _

__“I'm just saying, dude.”_ _

__“Go to bed, Sam.”_ _

__He was distracted the next day at his regular job, working as a mechanic for Uncle Bobby. He loved the work, but the shop wasn't actually doing that well so Bobby couldn't afford to pay him full time. That second gig for Flock You was a necessary component to his income. Sam’s education wasn't cheap, even with the scholarships. The job would be awful except that he got to hang out in the middle of the night with the people he loved best making mischief, and that part was all kinds of awesome._ _

__He couldn't seem to stop thinking about messy sex hair and blue, blue eyes, or that gravelly voice. It had been a long time since he'd been so aware of someone so instantaneously. Dean liked flirting, liked having fun, but it had been ages since he'd been even remotely serious about anyone. And why the hell was he even thinking about that over a guy he'd met in the middle of the night and talked to for minutes, at best?_ _

__Odds were that Cas was straight, anyhow. Most guys were. And he'd only seen him in the middle of the night, when any body language or tells couldn't really be trusted because he'd only just dragged himself out of bed. But damn, the guy was hot._ _

__Super hot._ _

__Incredibly smoking hot._ _

__Maybe Sam was actually right. Maybe he should at least try and figure out if Cas was open to… yeah. It was weird. With girls? Dean had an easy time, flirting, smiling, great if it works out, great if it doesn’t. Objectively he knew he was attractive. Rejection rarely hit him very hard; he just figured oh well, better luck next time. On occasion he’d thought that maybe the reason it was so much harder with guys was that even if a girl said no, she was unlikely to take his flirting as an insult. Guys, though… sometimes it could get ugly, and that always hurt because it was so much the opposite of what he intended, and it could get so ugly so fast._ _

__Somehow the day passed and he even managed to go for long stretches of time without thinking about Cas. Finally his shift was done and it was time to go back to remove the yard decorations. Pick-up was faster than set-up, so he didn't need the same crew. It would be just him for the first couple hours doing the pick-ups, and then he’d collect the rest of the crew for the new job tonight. Just one, this time. It was a weird business, sometimes incredibly busy, other times not so much so._ _

__What that meant, though, is that it would be just him. Would Cas even be there? There was a strong possibility he wouldn't be, so Dean was getting himself worked up and nothing would come of it. But there was also a possibility he would be._ _

__If Dean took a little extra time in the shower to make sure he got as much of the oil out from under his fingernails as possible and that there was no lingering eau d’auto clinging to him, and if he just happened to wear his nicest pair of jeans and the green henley that he’d been told did things for his eyes, well, that was just a coincidence, right? No one would get him to admit otherwise._ _

__No one would get him to admit that his palms were sweating when he pulled up in front of the Craftsman a little earlier than he was technically on the clock, either._ _

__The house was even nicer in the daylight, though he had to admit the flock of pink flamingos was jarring. That was the point, though, honestly. The house itself was painted a charcoal gray, with white trim and immaculately tended gardens and planters. There was a riot of flowers, the shrubbery pruned so that it was nicely shaped but still looked natural, not what he scathingly called ‘poodle trees’ that had been sculpted into shapes no self-respecting tree could possibly be happy about._ _

__He took a deep breath and got out of the van. Should he go knock on the door to let Cas know he was here and would be taking down the birds? He never did that. Just showed up and got the job done. But then again, Cas wouldn’t know he never did it, so it wouldn’t be obviously weird, would it?_ _

__He chewed on his lower lip, staring at the door for too long of a moment before shaking himself and opening the back door of the van, pulling out the empty boxes he’d need to hold the flamingos. The boxes were more than a little beat up by now, some of them held together by multiple layers of strapping tape. This particular one had drawings of fantasy costumes on it -- Charlie had been trying to explain what she wanted to do for her newest Moondor outfit, and the boxes were the only available surface to write on._ _

__A bit of movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He turned -- and Cas was coming out the front door._ _

__Dean’s breath caught in his chest, panic rising. That wasn’t part of the mental script he’d been building. Shit, shit, fuck, what do I do now? Be cool, Winchester. Be cool. Had he actually been watching for Dean’s return? If so, why? Because he was interested? Or, more likely, just to make sure that the obnoxious pink flamingos were indeed collected as promised?_ _

__Dean turned and lifted his hand in greeting. “Heya, Cas,” he called out. “Told ya I’d be back tonight to pick this stuff up.”_ _

__He hadn’t misremembered. If anything the guy was even more gorgeous in the light of day, dressed and neatly groomed rather than padding around in ratty old sleepwear. His hair was still in sexy disarray, but the jeans fit much better than the sleep pants had, clinging to well-developed thighs in a way that made Dean’s mouth go dry._ _

__Cas stepped down off of the porch and headed straight towards him, reaching to take the box from him and set it on the ground. In the process their fingers brushed against each other, and damn. Trite, stereotypical teenage romance bullshit, but Dean could swear that sparks tingled where their skin had touched._ _

__“Hello, Dean,” Cas said._ _

__And there it was. The tingles definitely migrated farther south to do a tango in his core, just at the sound of that rumbling voice._ _

__“So I hope the flock didn’t embarrass you too much today,” he said, hoping he didn't sound like the blathering idiot he felt like._ _

__Cas chuckled slightly. “Actually, no. It turned out surprisingly pleasant. Neighbors I’ve never talked to before stopped by to ask what the occasion was, and some children were running around between the flamingos laughing. I’d forgotten how pleasant the sound of young children laughing could be.” There was a faint bemusement to his tone._ _

__“So what was the occasion, if I might ask? The sign’s kind of vague. Congratulations on a job well done. Cassie.”_ _

__He winced at that. “Please. Gabriel calls me that specifically to be an ass. Cas is fine.” He looked up and met Dean’s gaze, a sort of shy pleasure softening his oh-so-blue eyes. It was a good look on him, paired with the faint smile. “I recently received the news that a book I wrote is to be published.”_ _

__“Dude!” Dean grinned and gave him a light punch in the arm. “That’s awesome! Congratulations. What kind of book? You’re an author?”_ _

__The smile widened just a bit, sort of a mix of pleasure and awed wonder -- and damn if Dean didn't want to see that expression again. Frequently. “I am,” he answered. “I can say that now and have it be true, rather than pinning words in front of it like ‘aspiring’. It is an epic fantasy novel, along the veins of Tolkien, but written in a more contemporary fashion. It will still be some time before it is released, and I certainly am not in a position to surrender my current job, but… yes, I am pleased. Even if it doesn’t do particularly well, it’s fulfilling a lifelong dream.”_ _

__“Fantasy? Really? Awesome. I like to read fantasy, and Charlie -- don’t know if you saw her last night, but she’s the redhead on my team -- is huge into it, cosplay and LARPing and everything.”_ _

__“So does that explain this box?” He gestured towards the drawings._ _

__“Oh. Yeah, actually. She was trying to explain what her newest costume looks like. Or is going to look like, I think she’s still working on it.” Why the hell was he talking about Charlie? Not the direction to go with this. But he was flustered._ _

__“I admire people with that kind of enthusiasm.”_ _

__“Enthusiasm is one thing Charlie has in spades.” Dean chuckled. He set the Sharpie-decorated box down. “So when does the book get released?”_ _

__“There’s no specific date yet, though they mentioned next April as a target date. First my assigned editor has to read through and provide feedback, then I have some time to make revisions, then another edit, and a final read-through to approve all of the changes. All that will take some time. But…”_ _

__“But you sold a book! That is seriously awesome, man. Maybe we should leave the flock for an extra day.”_ _

__Cas gave him the stink eye at that. “No. Thank you, but no.”_ _

__Dean laughed and started uprooting flamingos, careful not to disturb the grass any more than he had to. “Aww, I’m hurt. No one loves the flamingos.”_ _

__“I am rather more partial to bees.”_ _

__“So that’s why the bees on the banner?”_ _

__“Mm. Most likely, yes.” Cas followed along, picking up some of the flamingos himself. Dean wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. It seemed like an encouraging sign. People didn’t usually help, and they didn’t usually make conversation. It had to mean something, didn’t it? Maybe it was just a natural curiosity. Maybe Cas was just someone that was interested in people, generally speaking, and this oddball job piqued his interest._ _

__Maybe it had nothing at all to do with Dean himself._ _

__“This seems an interesting job. How did you get into it?”_ _

__Dean felt his heart sink a little, but gamely launched into an explanation of how he’d seen the ad pinned up in a local grocery store at a time when he’d needed some extra money, and became a job boss fairly quickly, recruiting some friends to work with him -- including his younger brother. He told Cas about his day job, and how he loved it but it was only part time so he needed something to supplement it._ _

__The conversation flowed easily, and as Dean folded up the banner and handed it over to Cas as a keepsake, he wished there had been a hundred flamingos, or maybe a thousand. Even dawdling, it hadn’t taken nearly enough time to pick them all up and box them._ _

__He hadn’t gotten a chance to ask hardly any of his own questions, and he really had no rational excuse to linger. He only had the truth--and that? That was a last resort sort of a thing._ _

__Still, maybe he was at last resorts, he thought as he shoved the last box into the rear of the van._ _

__He brushed his hands together to loosen the bits of grass that clung to them from the flamingos and turned to face Cas. “Thanks for the assist, man. Appreciate it.”_ _

__Cas smiled, a crooked, vaguely uncertain sort of a smile. “It’s been my pleasure. Do you have more jobs tonight?”_ _

__“Yeah, two more pick-ups and a birthday flocking a couple towns over. I’ll pick up the rest of the crew in a couple hours and we’ll head on over. Sam’s not getting home until late. He’s got a study group thing going on this evening.”_ _

__Cas tipped his head to the side, considering. “So you will have some free time between now and then?”_ _

__“Couple hours, yeah.”_ _

__“I see.” Cas inhaled as though he was going to say something, his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushing, but then he exhaled and seemed to pull into himself again, shaking his head._ _

__So there they were, awkwardly standing by the rear of the van. Dean scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand, searching his brain for how to get at what he wanted to know. He didn’t want to leave, not without something more. Only he didn’t want it to be weird, either. It should be simple, just a little question. Heya, Cas, I think you’re awesome. Want to get together sometime for drinks or something? Like tomorrow? Tonight? Worst case he’d say no, and Dean would be mortified but he’d be able to make his escape and then lick his wounds in peace._ _

__It should be easy._ _

__Why, then, couldn’t he push the words out?_ _

__Cas stared at Dean. Dean stared at Cas._ _

__He couldn’t do it. Despite the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t risk having Cas’ expression turn into shock, or worse a sad sort of accepting pity. None of the signals he’d been getting made him think that would happen, logically, but logic wasn’t ruling, in the end._ _

__He willed Cas to say something, anything, but it didn’t happen._ _

__He reached into his pocket to retrieve the keys of the van. “Yeah, so… I’d better get going. It was nice to meet you, Cas. Thanks for being a good sport about the flamingos.”_ _

__“I won’t say it was my pleasure, but… certain aspects of it were quite nice.” He swallowed, looked away, then looked back again. “Yes. Ah. Good luck with the rest of your evening, then.”_ _

__“Yeah. Thanks.” He turned, got into the van and started her up, pausing just a moment before shifting into gear and driving off. He couldn’t quite resist a look in the rearview mirror, watching Cas as he drove away._ _

__

__

__Picking up the stork and two other smaller jobs was a piece of cake, and took very little time. Dean still had an hour and a half before he had to meet the others for the bigger job. On the one hand, ninety minutes wasn’t really that long. On the other, it was plenty long enough for the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach to grow._ _

__He was just a coward. A few bad experiences, and he was willing to let that dictate his life? Not be willing to take chances? Charlie would give him so much shit, he didn’t even have to actually talk to her to know exactly what she would say, and even Sam would give him a disappointed look at the best. At the worst, he’d get that sympathetic look and then a lecture disguised as commiseration. They’d start talking to him about life choices and you need to take the chance, rather than not even give it a shot._ _

__And the worst one of all, you deserve to be happy, Dean. Is this what you want? Really?_ _

__He wasn’t sure about that one, not yet. But damn. He didn’t like admitting, even just to himself, that he was a chicken._ _

__Cas was… there was something there, or at least there could be. He was gorgeous, sure, but it was more than that. Dean genuinely liked the guy, felt a connection that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since Charlie, and that was entirely different. Look how that had turned out. He considered her his best friend, so maybe he could actually trust his gut. Maybe._ _

__He groaned and put his head down on his arms, his forehead against the cold plastic of the steering wheel. “Dammit, Winchester. Nut up.”_ _

__He checked the time. There were still 45 minutes before he was supposed to meet the rest of the crew. It wasn’t a lot of time, but it was enough -- and he could be a little late if it ended up that way. A little._ _

__Squaring his shoulders, he shifted into gear and headed back._ _

__Twenty minutes later he pulled up in front of Cas’ little Craftsman cottage. The lights were still on inside. It was getting close to ten, so it was dark out, making the house look that much more welcoming. He had a moment’s wild panic where he almost hit the gas instead of the brake, but forced himself to come to a stop and get out. His palms were slick with sweat and his heart was up in his throat. His pulse raced like the engine of an Indy 500 car, but he forced himself to walk up to the door. He wiped his hands on his jeans, feeling light-headed with nerves, but then he did it. He jabbed the doorbell, and forced himself not to turn and run._ _

__Cas opened the door. “Dean,” he said, surprise coloring his tone._ _

__“Heya, Cas.” Dean reached out to grip the door jamb tightly, his knuckles turning white. It actually hurt a little, but that was good. Pain kept him grounded, kept him thinking about that rather than about his nerves. “Look, man. Here’s the thing.” He swallowed hard, knowing he was either pale or flushed, maybe a little of each. “I could be entirely wrong about this, and if I am, then tell me to shove off and I will. But… I like you, and I think you like me at least a little. Maybe it’s as a potential friend, and that’s cool. I keep thinking if you didn’t like me at all you wouldn’t have come out and talked while I was doing the pick-up of your yard.”_ _

__“Dean --”_ _

__“No, I have to get this out. See, I’m bi. And I think you’re… you’re amazing, and smart, and gorgeous. Those eyes, man. So yeah, I think you’re hot, and if you’re open to it I’d love to see where it goes. If you’re not, if you’re straight as an arrow and want me to get lost, you just have to say the word. I’m not going to lie to you, I’ll be seriously bummed about it, but I’ll go and I’ll never show up on your doorstep again. But I had to at least ask. Had to find out, rather than being my usual chickenshit self and not taking a chance. So. There it is.”_ _

__He took a breath, and looked down into the geranium he’d noticed right before Cas had opened that door the first time, suddenly terrified to actually look at Cas and see the results of his babbling._ _

__“Dean.” His tone was firm, and he reached out to tap the underside of Dean’s chin, encouraging him to look up. When he did, Cas’ eyes were warm and shining with pleasure. “There you are.” His fingers lingered for a moment, caressing his chin lightly, quickly. “I am glad you came back. I’ve been kicking myself for letting you go away without saying anything. Yes. I would love to ‘see where it goes’. Will you go out with me? Drinks, perhaps, the next evening you’re free? A proper date?”_ _

__Dean felt like there had to be explosions of fireworks going off behind him accompanied by a 100-piece orchestra. He grinned. “Yeah?”_ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

__“Awesome, man. That is… awesome. And hey, we’ll have a great story to tell, about how I flocked you good the first time we met.”_ _

__Cas rolled his eyes. “Really? Really, Dean?”_ _

__Dean just laughed, then pulled Cas into his arms._ _


End file.
